"
"Oh, that's it, is it? You make a great fuss about the boy."
"Yes; I can't help thinking about my own boy."
"Oh, drop that! It makes me sick. Wasn't he my boy as well as yours?
I'm sorry he's gone. I could have brought him up to be a help to us
in our business."
"Never, Jack, never!" exclaimed his wife fervently.
"Hello! what's that?"
"I mean that I should have been unwilling to have our son grow up no
better than we are. He, at any rate, should have been a good man."
"What's up now, old woman? You haven't been attending Sunday-school
lately, have you?" demanded Jack, with a sneer.
"I did once, Jack, and I haven't quite forgotten what I learned
there, though it don't look like it now."
"Are you going back on me?" demanded Jack fiercely.
"No, Jack, it's too late for that. I have helped you, and I mean to
help you, but to-night the sight of that boy, and the thought of our
son, who died so long ago, have given me a turn. If it was a man, it
would be different. But you have promised you won't harm him, and no
more need be said."
"Too much has been said already, to my thinkin'," growled Jack.
"However, that's over, and I expect you to help me if I need help.
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